


A Secret Revealed

by Persiflage



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Coulson Loves Daisy's Voice, Cousy Rewatch, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Tag, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Music, Naked Cuddling, POV Skye | Daisy Johnson, Poetry, Reading Aloud, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 17:55:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12636198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Ward casts a long shadow.





	A Secret Revealed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts), [Skyepilot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/gifts).



> Written for the Cousy Rewatch at Johnson & Coulson on Tumblr: tag fic for 2:07 - The Writing on the Wall. Coulson comforts Daisy in the wake of Ward's end-of-episode phone call.

Skye puts on Coulson’s record player, something mellow she picked out of his collection. It feels a little weird to be in his office, listening to his music while she works, but it feels good too – right, somehow (and she really doesn’t want to look too closely at just why it feels right). She smiles at the framed ‘Trust Cap’ poster, then picks up her mug of coffee, trying to pretend that there’s no significance in the fact she’s using the Grumpy Cat mug that Coulson’s been using lately, before she moves over to the table where she’s set up her laptop, and plugs in Bakshi’s phone.

“All right, Mr Bakshi, I hope you weren’t into selfies or this could be embarrassing for both of us.”

As data starts streaming onto her laptop the phone rings, startling her. She glances down at the unknown number message on the screen, takes a deep breath, then picks it up as she accepts the call. 

“Hail HYDRA.”

“Hey Skye.” 

At the sound of Ward’s voice she scrambles up from her chair, panicking a bit, and looking around as if she can see Ward. “Where are you?”

“Just wanted to make sure you got my present,” Ward tells her, sounding relaxed and cheerful. She makes herself calm down again, not wanting to give him any clue to her state of mind. “I promised him a face-to-face with Coulson. Probably not exactly what he had in mind. I’ll be sending a few other gifts your way, now and then.”

Skye easily injects a note of disdain into her voice. “Like a cat bringing in dead birds? No thanks.”

“Just trying to be helpful. Oh, met the new recruits. I don’t think they need to hang around much longer.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Just a suggestion. Coulson could do better. Then again, I am hard to replace.”

Skye rolls her eyes at the smug tone in his words. “How about you tell me where you are and we can talk about it?”

“I have to go now, Skye. I have a few personal matters to attend to. But I’ll be seeing you soon. I promise.”

The call cuts off, and Skye puts the phone down quickly, then leans her hands on the table, her eyes tightly closed as she breathes deep and slow.

“Skye?” 

Coulson’s voice startles her badly, and she wishes she had heard him approaching, then she might have been better able to hide how rattled she’s feeling. “What is it?” he asks softly, coming closer. His hand reaches for her – automatically, she thinks – and she doesn’t hesitate to move into his personal space.

“Ward,” she breathes, and Coulson’s arms immediately wrap around her, drawing her in against his body. 

“Bakshi’s phone?” he asks. When she nods, he huffs in obvious annoyance. “I should have thought of that possibility.”

“Who’s the Comms expert around here?” she asks, pulling back a bit to look him in the eye. “I never thought of it.”

“So we’re both to blame,” he says, and she senses he’s making an effort at humour because he’s as worried as she is about Ward contacting her, even though he doesn’t yet know the details of the conversation. She wishes she didn’t have to tell him, but knows he needs to know, so she takes a deep, slow breath, then pulls away from him to sit down in her chair again. Coulson gives her a concerned look, then grabs a second chair and places it so close to hers that he’s in touching distance. 

“Tell me,” he says softly, and places his hand on her forearm.

She nods, then recounts the details of the mercifully brief conversation. “He’s going after his family,” she finishes.

Coulson closes his eyes for a moment, looking pained at the prospect of dealing with Senator Ward. “Yes.” He sighs. “I suppose that’s not really surprising. I’ll call Senator Ward and warn him, though I don’t imagine he’ll be very happy to hear from me.”

“It’s not your fault his brother’s a psychopathic asshole,” she points out, and he laughs weakly.

“True,” he agrees.

“What are you doing up, anyway?” she asks, wanting to change the subject – wanting, desperately, to put Ward out of her mind as much as possible. “I figured you’d sleep for hours yet after getting so little sleep while you were carving.”

He nods. “I hoped to, but I’ve been awake for half an hour and could feel I wasn’t going to go back to sleep any time soon, so I thought I’d come and see how you were doing.”

She shakes her head. He’d told her the evening before not to stay up all night working on Bakshi’s phone, and since it had already been a very full day, she’d decided to leave it until this morning. 

“Perhaps you need someone to read you a bedtime story?” she jokes.

He tilts his head. “Are you offering?” The corners of his mouth are not quite curving up into a smile.

“Are you asking?” she counters, definitely smiling.

“I’m asking.” He smirks a bit.

“Then I’m offering.”

He chuckles, and she laughs too, realising that their exchange is pretty silly, but grateful to be able to have the chance to be silly with him. They get to their feet simultaneously, and she accompanies him to his quarters.

It’s the first time she’s been in here, and she can’t help looking around as Coulson heads for his bed: the room is exactly as tidy as she’d expect from him, with a few personal touches here and there: a framed photo of Lola on his dresser, and her keys in a shallow china bowl in front of the photo; a few of his collectibles from the Bus; and a bunch of books on a shelf above the dresser.

“What do you want me to read?” she asks, looking over at him and smiling involuntarily at how cute he looks as he climbs into the bed. She tries not to dwell on the fact that she’s in Coulson’s quarters just a few feet from the bed.

“Some poetry,” he says. “That always sends me to sleep.”

She chuckles softly at that, then grabs a book of Pablo Neruda’s poetry – it’s been ages since she read anything of his. “I’m not sure the poets would appreciate knowing that,” she points out as she moves over to the bed. She looks around for a chair and Coulson shakes his head.

“You’ll have to sit on the bed,” he says, sounding amused.

She rolls her eyes, then perches on the side of the bed and opens the book. “Are you lying comfortably?” she asks, smirking and he chuckles.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Then I’ll begin.” 

Half an hour later, he’s still wide awake, and clearly listening with rapt attention. She finishes the poem she’s reading, then lowers the book to look at him. He gives her a dreamy smile that makes her body clench with want, and she forces herself not to look too closely at her reaction.

“This isn’t working,” she points out.

His expression turns sheepish. “I, um, may have forgotten to mention that I love the sound of your voice,” he says.

“You do?” she asks, surprised.

He pushes himself up so that he’s sitting up and nods energetically. “Oh yes. That’s why I wanted you to be the one to talk me through the Memory Machine. After all, you were the one who pulled me out of it before, when Raina used it on me.”

Skye’s a bit stunned and she sits staring at him, trying to process this revelation. “I didn’t know that,” she says.

“I thought I shouldn’t tell you,” he says, with the air of someone admitting a secret. “I listened to your podcasts, too.” 

She’s sure she’s not imagining the blush that’s tingeing his cheeks. “All of them?” she asks, feeling both flattered and embarrassed.

He swallows. “Some of them more than once,” he tells her.

“Oh my god, you’re a fanboy!” She laughs at the realisation and he gives her a pained look for an instant, then covers his face with his hands, making her laugh harder. She grabs his wrists and pulls his hands away, and he’s blushing so much that she says, “I could kiss you for that.”

He raises both eyebrows. “You could?” Then he smirks. “Yeah, you could.”

She feels her own eyebrows go up, then she leans in and kisses him, letting go of his wrists so she can hold his shoulders. He kisses her back, tilting his head to get the right angle, and she moans softly into his mouth as his arms wrap around her and hold her body more tightly against his own.

It’s a long, needy kiss that leaves her desperate for more, and not just for more kissing. “Phil,” she moans and draws her hand down his chest towards his crotch.

Her hand finds his rampant erection. “Skye.” His own moan sounds just as desperate as hers, which makes her feel better. 

“Do you want this?” she asks. “Because I really want you.”

He gazes into her eyes. “I’ve wanted you from the first time I set eyes on you.”

“Well you kept that quiet,” she says, startled.

He nods. “Given that you were coming to us from the Rising Tide, I didn’t want to risk further prejudicing people against you when you became a SHIELD agent – too many people would’ve assumed you slept your way into the position if we were in a relationship. I wanted to be sure that people knew you had become an agent solely on your own merit.”

“God,” she whispers, then leans in and kisses him rather aggressively. He makes a pleased noise, though, so she knows he doesn’t mind the aggression, and he kisses her back with equal fervour. She eases her hand into his sweatpants and curls her fingers around as much of his erection as she can (he’s big, she notes, and feels a further surge of desire). 

“Skye.” He sounds a bit like he’s in pain, so she pulls her mouth free of his, then taps his thigh. 

“Lift.” 

He obeys, and she smirks at that, then she gets his sweatpants out of the way, exposing his cock fully. She can’t help licking her lips at the sight of the engorged head which is already leaking precum. She gets up, her feet either side of his thighs as she slides her own sweatpants down, then kicks them off, before she sheds her sweater and the tank underneath it. He groans at the sight of her naked body, and she feels a thrill of excitement at the way he looks at her.

“Skye, please.” He reaches for her and she lowers herself to kneel over him, then clasps his cock and rubs the head against her sex.

“Fuck.” He gasps the word out, his expression a mixture of longing and pain, and she decides she’s not interested in teasing him at this moment, so she guides him inside her slick heat. They both moan as he slides into her, stretching her walls as he fills her. He feels far bigger once she’s taken his cock deep inside her throbbing sex.

“Fuck, Phil,” she says, breathless with excitement and pleasure. “You’re so big.”

“And you’re so tight,” he says, even more breathlessly.

“Is this position okay?” she asks. She hasn’t had that many sexual partners, but the few men she’s been with have preferred the missionary position. (The women tended to be less keen on it.)

“It’s perfect,” he assures her, so she nods, then leans into kiss him, nipping at his bottom lip repeatedly until he bucks his hips up, which makes her lean back and smirk at him before she begins to move. 

Afterwards they curl up together, one of Skye’s legs wrapped possessively over both of Coulson’s as she lies on her side next to him. “You’re mine now,” she says jokingly.

“Always,” he agrees, and she feels as if she might cry at the absolute sincerity in his face and voice. He’s a bit unbelievable, she thinks, but then she suddenly remembers the way he boarded the Bus, alone, to rescue her from Ward, and she decides that he’s not so unbelievable after all.

“Might sleep for a bit more, now,” he tells her, and he does sound sleepy, she thinks.

“Do you want me to go?”

“No,” he says immediately. “But if you want to go – “

She shakes her head. “Not yet.”

“Then stay,” he says, and tightens his left arm around her body.

“Think I might,” she agrees. This is certainly nicer than working on Bakshi’s phone, or worrying about what Ward might do next. She settles her head on his shoulder, then places her left hand over his heart.

He sighs, and she smiles then closes her eyes. Within minutes they’re both fast asleep.


End file.
